


Salvation in Dreams

by GotTheSilver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Community: hc_bingo, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapped Tony Stark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: The man doesn’t say a word, just looks at Tony, and Tony tries not to blink under the scrutiny. There’s a coldness to it, and Tony’s suddenly struck with the realisation that he’s not been kidnapped for any reason other than this man wants to cause pain and Tony was the nearest person available.And that, somehow, is more terrifying than anything else Tony can imagine.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 231
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11





	Salvation in Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> a fill for hurt/comfort bingo, square: gags.
> 
> references to torture, plus blood and burns.

Tony fucking hates being kidnapped, he hated it before Afghanistan and now he—.

It’s not just taking a hit to the head and waking up somewhere he doesn’t know with chains around his limbs, it’s waking up with a fucking gag in his mouth and for a moment he—.

It feels like being pushed under water over and over again, like not being able to catch his breath, and it’s only the fear of sending himself into a panic attack and choking on his own damn tongue that gets him to calm down.

It’s fabric, the gag, but secured around his head with something stronger, and Tony doesn’t like the thought of that. It implies—.

Well. He doesn’t want to think what it implies.

His head is woozy, and it’s not only from the head trauma, it’s medicinal, it’s something in his blood and that’s—.

He closes his eyes and tries not to think about it.

*

He’s woken up by a smack to the face, and Tony can feel the blood pooling in the corner of his mouth, soaking into the gag. Swallowing hard as he opens his eyes, Tony’s greeted by a man holding a gun, and he doesn’t recognise him.

Not that Tony makes a habit of associating with kidnappers, but he’s painfully aware he’s glad handed with some unsavoury characters in the past.

The man doesn’t say a word, just looks at Tony, and Tony tries not to blink under the scrutiny. There’s a coldness to it, and Tony’s suddenly struck with the realisation that he’s not been kidnapped for any reason other than this man wants to cause pain and Tony was the nearest person available.

And that, somehow, is more terrifying than anything else Tony can imagine.

*

Everything hurts, and Tony doesn’t know what day it is, he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he was taken, and he doesn’t know—.

He fought. With Steve. That’s why he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings and then—.

The gag in his mouth is soaked with his blood, and the metallic taste hits the back of his throat with every swallow. It hasn’t been taken off him in the time he’s been there, not even to let him eat. Not that he’s been fed. The man slowly pours water through the fabric, soaking it just enough that Tony stays alive, and Tony despises how fucking grateful he has to be for that.

But he doesn’t know if anyone’s coming for him.

He doesn’t know if there’s a reason to be grateful.

*

The man doesn’t want to hear him scream, Tony realises. It’s like there’s a damn science to what he’s doing as he cuts into Tony, as he hits him, as he heats up a poker to—.

Tony could go forever without ever smelling his own burnt flesh ever again.

“Interesting,” the man says as Tony grits his teeth and tries not to show a reaction. “You’ll break. Eventually.”

He won’t. He won’t.

He’ll try not to.

He’ll try.

*

Tony’s unconscious more often than not, now, and he—.

He dreams.

He dreams of Steve.

He dreams there’s no gag making his jaw ache and his mouth crack.

He dreams he’s anywhere but where he is.

He dreams that someone cares.

And then when he’s conscious it’s a fucking nightmare and he wishes he could scream.

*

“Tony, sweetheart, wake up.”

Head lolling, Tony struggles to open his eyes because—Steve. He hears Steve.

But that’s not—.

Steve can’t be here, because if Steve’s here then he’s going to get hurt, and—.

“Shit,” Steve’s voice says again. “Tony, stop, stop. You’ve gotta stop or else I can’t—”

There’s a clang, and Tony feels the metal cuffs fall from his wrists, scraping against his skin, and if that—. Lifting his head, Tony concentrates on opening his eyes.

Everything’s blurry, and the gag is still in his mouth, but—. It’s Steve, it is, it’s Steve, and he’s there, but Tony can’t speak and he just wants—. With his now free hands, Tony goes to pull at the gag, but Steve’s hands stop him, and Tony looks at him in confusion.

“We can’t yet,” Steve says, his thumb stroking over Tony’s wrist gently. “Your skin—we have to wait. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I know, I know.”

If Tony could cry, he would, but his dehydrated body won’t cooperate, and instead all he can feel is his body shaking with the need to cry, but Steve—.

Steve holding him is the last thing Tony is aware of before everything goes black.

*

The next time Tony wakes up, the gag is gone, and he presses his lips together because he _can_.

“Hi,” Steve says, from Tony’s side, his face strained. “Tony—”

“I’m sorry,” Tony croaks out, his throat sore. “Steve, I—”

“Don’t,” Steve says. “God, Tony, you don’t have to apologise, when I realised you were gone I didn’t—” he breaks off and shakes his head. “I had no idea what to do.”

“Found me.”

“Natasha and Rhodey, they found you, I—until they did, I didn’t—the thought of you not—” Steve wipes his eyes with the hand that isn’t holding Tony’s hand. “I was so scared,” he whispers, barely audible to Tony’s ears.

“How long?” Tony asks, trying to move his fingers to squeeze Steve’s hand and not succeeding. “What’s—” he frowns at the taste of blood in his mouth.

“Almost a week,” Steve says before he reaches up with a sponge and dabs it at Tony’s face. “You—there’s burns, Helen’s coming in with the portable cradle, but we had to treat the infection first. No broken bones, but some of the wounds were deep, and your mouth—the gag cut into your skin, that’s why we couldn’t take it out at the warehouse, but you’re going to be fine. You hear me? Tony? You’re going to be fine.”

“Fuzzy,” Tony says, staring at Steve. “But yeah.”

“Painkillers,” Steve says with a soft smile. “You’re on a lot of them.”

“Good,” Tony slurs, exhaustion coming over him, and he feels his body sinking into the bed. “Steve?” he says, jerking himself awake.

“Yeah?”

“Stay?”

“Not getting rid of me,” Steve says, kissing the back of Tony’s hand. “Promise.”

“‘Kay,” Tony says before he jerks awake again. “Wait—”

“Tony?”

“Love you,” Tony says. “I didn’t—before—you need to—”

“Shh,” Steve says, standing up and running a hand over Tony’s hair. “I love you too,” he says, pressing a kiss against Tony’s hairline. “Sleep, Tony,” he says, settling back in the chair. “I’ll be here.”

And Tony—Tony actually believes that.

**Author's Note:**

> fic post on [twitter](https://twitter.com/starstarked/status/1321590678133055489?s=20)
> 
> fic post on [tumblr](https://gotthesilver.tumblr.com/post/633263352430411776/new-fic-salvation-in-dreams-stevetony-mcu-1k)


End file.
